


in a yellow wood

by alykapedia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 07:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21295622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: He’s always known Felix better than anyone, and knows that for all his qualms about nobility, Felix is honorable and righteous—like a knight straight out of the tales Ingrid and Ashe liked so much.And so Sylvain knows that as soon as the battle ends, Felix is going to leave.Sylvain won't allow their paths to diverge.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 85
Kudos: 1027





	in a yellow wood

**Author's Note:**

> look ok i just finished my gd playthrough and sylvain and felix's paired end hurt my feelings so here we are. also, i needed to work through my guilt (lol) about UH recruiting most of the blue lions and black eagles and realizing that i pretty much asked these kids to desert their homelands
> 
> probably (definitely) terrible bc w o w i haven't written in a while but i just needed to write this for myself so i can find peace
> 
> title from the robert frost poem, you know the one

Sylvain knows it’s coming even before the war ends.

Knows it will happen before they faced Nemesis, before they marched for Enbarr, even before the siege of Fort Merceus and javelins of light started falling from the sky. He’s known it since the Battle of Gronder and whatever was left of Dimitri stands before them on the blood-soaked ground. Has been anticipating it the moment he sees the stricken look on Felix’s face as Hilda haltingly tells them of Dimitri’s fate, because he’s always known Felix better than anyone, and knows that for all his qualms about nobility, Felix is honorable and righteous—like a knight straight out of the tales Ingrid and Ashe liked so much.

And so Sylvain knows that as soon as the battle ends, Felix is going to leave. 

As penance, perhaps, for abandoning Faerghus and their prince.

In another life, Sylvain will let him, will be too busy celebrating their victory to notice Felix stealing away into the unknown without a single word. He’ll spend his days wallowing in regret, an emptiness festering in his chest where a heart is supposed to be, for allowing the best and most important thing in his life slip away. 

But in this life, Sylvain is several steps ahead of Felix.

He has provisions prepared, supplies for two people sequestered away, collected over a span of weeks and months. There are two bedrolls already strapped to his mare, a bag stocked full of vulneraries and antitoxins, and enough gold to last them for several moons. He’s also the one who makes their goodbyes because Felix sure as hell won’t do it, what with all the sneaking around, which means Sylvain spends their last few hours in Derdriu talking to Ingrid, Annette, and Mercedes.

An ugly part of him expects the worst, expects admonishments and lectures, a screaming match even, instead he only gets rueful smiles and knowing looks.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Ingrid asks, after Mercedes and Annette take their leave. “You thought we’d begrudge you of this?” And Sylvain is suddenly reminded that they are all of them deserters, traitors to their homeland and their prince, and if anyone is going to understand why he and Felix are doing this, it will be them. They all have their crosses to bear, and Sylvain will bear his gladly, but not without Felix by his side. “Just—don’t die, okay? There’s only three of us left, and I don’t think I can take it if I lose any more of you idiots.” 

Sylvain laughs and pulls Ingrid in for a hug because he doesn’t quite trust himself to talk about the now empty spot in their tiny quartet, ignoring the way she shakes and trembles in his arms. “Well,” he murmurs after a small eternity, “far be it from me to deprive you of your idiots.”

And then it’s a matter of finishing his preparations and lying in wait by the stables. A handful of gold in the right hands guarantee that he’s apprised of Felix’s comings and goings, and it’s not long before a passing maid nods at him just as Felix appears, a bag slung over one shoulder and several swords strapped to his waist. 

Leaning back against his mare, Sylvain allows himself a moment to look, a luxury that he hasn’t allowed himself, not since the war started, not even back at the Academy. Because Felix was and still is ten kinds of beautiful and makes Sylvain want things he shouldn’t want especially when the world was falling apart around them. But now that the world is no longer in danger of being ripped at the seams, Sylvain drinks Felix in, from his inky hair to those golden eyes that Sylvain has drowned in far too many times.

He watches those eyes go wide as Felix finally catches sight of him, and Sylvain can’t help the wry grin that pulls on his lips as shock and guilt flit over Felix’s face before it settles on annoyance.

Well, at least Felix feels guilty about leaving without telling him.

"Going somewhere?" He greets, baring his teeth in a smile that looks more like a grimace as he saunters towards Felix.

Felix, in true Felix fashion, bristles, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s a nervous tic he never really grew out of and something in Sylvain loosens at the sight, smile softening into a real one. “What are you doing here,” Felix says, more of a statement than a question so Sylvain doesn’t bother answering and instead throws a small pack of cakes at him. “What—?” 

"That’s from Lysithea and Bernie.” The two had accosted him on the way to the stables; Lysithea going on a tangent about how she managed to figure out a spell that would make the cakes stay fresh for an entire moon, while Bernadetta tells him haltingly that she’d also included a copy of her story so that he and Felix can have something to read if they’re really, really (_really, really_) bored. “You know,” Sylvain begins, once Felix has recovered from the knowledge that people like and care about him. “For someone who's so prickly all the time, you sure are popular with the ladies,” he continues, effortlessly dodging the kick the comment earns him.

"_Sylvain_," Felix grits out, abandoning the pack on his courser before rounding up on Sylvain with a glare that has had swathes of Imperial soldiers running for the hills, but only has Sylvain grinning and pulling Felix in by the shoulder into a one-armed hug. 

It’s probably a testament to everything they’ve gone through that Felix only puts up a token protest before sinking into his arms, nose finding a home in the crook of his neck, arms winding almost lazily around his waist. This close, Sylvain can feel the way Felix goes soft and pliant, practically melting into him that the words that have been lodged in his throat for the better part of the day come spilling out.

"We made a promise,” he says, aiming for flippant but landing squarely in the vicinity of sincere, because their childhood promise is as much a part of him as Felix is. “Kinda hard to keep it if you're leaving me behind.” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory too, but it comes out that way regardless, and he immediately regrets it as Felix flinches and pulls away, shaking his head vehemently.

“I couldn’t ask you to come with me when you have—” 

"Felix,” Sylvain interrupts, hands coming up to cup Felix’s face. “I have wanted nothing more than to run away ever since I was a kid.” Away from his crest and his family name, away from his father’s greed and expectations, away from the tomb he’d grown up in. “Frankly, I'm a bit insulted that you thought I'd what—go back home, and be Margrave Gautier?" 

Felix’s face twists, mouth opening and closing half a dozen times before he spits out, “what would you even get out of this?” And it’s such a ridiculous question but before Sylvain can say so, Felix is speaking again. “I have,” he chokes out, voice cracking in a way Sylvain hasn’t heard since they were kids and Felix had cried at the slightest provocation, “nothing to offer you,” he continues in a whisper, as if he isn’t Sylvain’s entire world.

As if Sylvain wouldn’t raze heaven and hell for scraps of his affection.

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Sylvain leans down to rest his forehead against Felix’s, and murmurs into the air between them, a confession and the only truth he knows:

“I don’t know, a lifetime with you sounds like a pretty sweet deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> intsys u can't sell us a childhood promise and renege on it wtf let my two idiot boys spend their lives together until death do they fuckin pART
> 
> [SCREAMSSSS NOW WITH THE MOST AMAZING ART???? I AM SO OVERCOME WITH FEELINGS ](https://twitter.com/ghostcandies/status/1193393092780421122)


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